


on the matter of fushimi saruhiko

by baruna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, K (Anime)
Genre: Badass!Fushimi, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Threesome - F/M/M, saruhiko as a gryffindor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baruna/pseuds/baruna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Fushimi Saruhiko was the last person Awashima Seri expected to join the ministry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the matter of fushimi saruhiko

Fushimi Saruhiko was the last person Awashima Seri expected to join the ministry.

From what she recalled, the quiet, modest boy had been sorted into Gryffindor. It was certainly a surprise, but nothing had particularly stood out about the child— who as a mere, powerless 1st year, while Munakata had been a 5th year Ravenclaw, ruling at the top of his house, with Seri herself as his right-hand.

Saruhiko was a traitor to the light’s very own Suoh Mikoto, who was a reluctant leader, but still a powerful, powerful man.

Seri’s eyes trailed after Munakata’s hand as he traced Fushimi’s jawline, smiling knowingly as he lifted Fushimi’s chin slightly. Seri scoffed. For all of Munakata Reisi’s distaste against Suoh, he had picked up the scum’s trash soon enough. Though she had not talked to the boy—just a child, fresh out of Hogwarts— Seri could not help her bitter countenance against the handsome youth that had so quickly taken away the attentions of their Captain.

She wasn’t the only one feeling betrayed (and she loathed to call it that), but it was well known that Saruhiko Fushimi was formerly part of Suoh’s inner group, and a primary element within the Gryffindor House. Perhaps even the only intelligent member.

Seri’s frown deepened as Munakata straightened the younger boy’s uniform, pulling on the lapels of his jacket as Fushimi’s eyes traveled imperceptibly to the top of the ceiling, arms hanging at his sides, a picture of casual boredom.

The Captain said something lowly, smirking. The newly recruited Gryffindor blinked and slapped the Captain’s hand away from his jacket, straightening up from his slouch and tugging on his sleeve.

“I’ll take my leave, then.” Fushimi said, without a bow, and left the room at an almost leisurely pace. Munakata’s inner circle of Scepter’s gaped at the door he had gone through. Seri grit her teeth and whirled around the moment Fushimi left the room.

“I like him.” Munakata declared, right as Seri opened her mouth to begin expressing her disapproval of their new member.

“But Captain… he didn’t even bow.” Said someone, clearly aghast. The other’s murmured in agreement (Seri was unashamedly one of them).

“Munakata,” Seri cut in loudly, her lack of formality denoting the seriousness of the situation, “we don’t know if that boy could be a spy. His skills are untested and we don’t have an accurate profile on him.”

“Lieutenant Awashima, perhaps you should get to know him before judging him.” Munakata suggested, raising both eyebrows as he brushed past her to move to the door. It was a clear dismissal. Seri’s back stiffened.

To anyone else, the words might have seemed friendly enough. To Seri, they were an order. She heard his footsteps stop as he passed by her. She felt a hand grip her shoulder and squeeze, an intimate physical touch usually reserved only for her, until Fushimi had spontaneously appeared out of nowhere and disrupted the comfortable order.

“Trust me.” Munakata whispered, his breath tickling her hair, before his footsteps resumed and he left the room.

Resolve hardening, Seri turned around and nodded her head militarily at the already shut door.

“Yes, sir.”

**-**

No one was more surprised than wizarding community when new Lords began springing up after Voldemort’s death like weeds in a fertilized field. They were all powerful, and their motives questionable. The most surprising of it all, though, was Munakata Reisi, a prefect Ravenclaw who had earned perfect grades, been a star student—honorable and unmanipulative. Ideal.

Until he had started Scepter 4, named so because he had begun his aspirations 4th year.

One day, Munakata Reisi decided he wanted to maintain order, that he wanted to do so preferably with the government, but it was filled with corrupt and unintelligent individuals whom he despised to associate with. Soon after, the minister had been replaced with a Scepter 4 puppet, and all had been well, until a rebellious band of rebels, sponsored by Potter himself, rose up.

It was based on some ridiculous notion that Munakata was a tyrant-like power hungry Lord, similar to Voldemort, but without the muggle-hating. Or killing. And also more law-abiding. Seri found it ludicrous—crime had abated, former death eaters punished and watched carefully. Peace was upon them.

The rebels hailed Suoh Mikoto’s little band of friends as the new heroes and placed the reluctant redhead on a pedestal. It would be amusing, Munakata thought, when the rebels realized that Suoh took the entire “battle for freedom” far less seriously that he should have. Or alternatively, when they realized that the real foe was someone far more menacing, with blurred motives.

And then, a certain handsome Gryffindor had arrived, with his perpetually uninterested aura and muggle clothing.

**-**

Fushimi Saruhiko, Seri realized, was a genius.

She had been trailing him silently for weeks, monitoring every movement, bored as he was, including when he hacked into the muggle government database for fun, or when he obliterated a vampire clan when his mission had merely been to “warn them” (which had only further strained the already tenuous treaty between humans and vampires, especially after Voldemort’s death), or even when Fushimi had learned every single dark art’s spell in a single day before testing it on a rat.

He had skinned it alive before rupturing its ribs from its body while the poor animal was still alive; watching all the while with half lidded eyes, lazily lifting his wand.

Not only was the seventeen year old skilled magically, but also mentally, easily matching up to the supposed Ravenclaw level required to join Munakata’s inner group. How the boy had not gotten into Ravenclaw in the first place, she did not know.

Seri continued observing, becoming increasingly impressed as he proved his physical prowess as well, swinging an antique dark artifact sword (that he had somehow taken from their vault right under their noses) with practiced ease, as the weapon hummed with radiating waves of blue power as he slashed skillfully through the air.

Her eyes widened as the revelation came to her.

_Fushimi was able to use the sword._

She acutely sensed the coils of power emanating from his body as it reverberated in her wand, further emphasizing the fact that Fushimi could use a power only seen in the most powerful Scepter 4 members.

It was shocking, alluring even. Seri could—though only minimally—understand why her Captain had been so pleased with the new recruit. He had always been drawn to the skilled, put-together individuals, such as Seri herself.

It was said that the HOMRA also had such a power, though only in rumors. It was widely assumed that once one accepted the powers of one artifact, they were bound forever. Clearly, Fushimi proved that one wrong.

The aforementioned youth let the sword drop listlessly to the ground as he lifted his hand in front of him slowly, spreading his fingers and opening his palm forward.

Seri breathed in harshly, her intake of breath loud.

Blue flames erupted in front of Fushimi, swirling around the focal point of his palm and spreading in all directions. He closed his hand into a fist abruptly, stopping the channeling flow of pure, raw, wandless magic. He scowled and made a disappointed ‘hm’ sound from the back of his throat, flexing his fingers.

She had seen that only in Munakata and herself, though his were wild, and _flames._ Her magic was concentrated into slices, and their Captain’s power was circular, large, and expansive. Never before had she seen the Scepter power converge into some sort of flame-like spiral. It was eerily similar to the red flames exuded by Mikoto himself.

Fushimi’s hand stilled, before falling limply to his side. His head half turned to the side before he bent over to pick up the sword from the greenery. He paused half way.

“Lieutenant.” He drawled, standing up straight and turning around to face her completely. Seri stiffened, posture picturesque of a armed leader.

“Fushimi,” Seri said cautiously, unsure of how to approach the man three years her junior. “You are very skilled with the sword.”

“Yes.”

Seri raised an eyebrow. Well, the Gryffindor certainly knew how to keep his composure, unlike his other housemates. He stared at her, eyes bored and unreflective of any challenge—there was no insubordination. There was no way Seri would be able to gain the upper hand, and Fushimi knew this, perceptive as he was. Munakata favored him, and his skills were beyond that of even perhaps her, though his personality wasn’t suited to the clerical work.

Fushimi suddenly let out a smile, the secretive-type smile where one side of his mouth curved higher than the other.

“I’m only here to serve.” The words flowed, came out easily from his lips, as if he had uttered them a hundred, a thousand times. She believed him. “Knight me.”

Seri raised an eyebrow. “You wish to be knighted.” She repeated for emphasis, in the way that someone would say only if they thought they heard wrong.

The other figure hummed in agreement and bent down, picking up the sword by the handle and flipping it up in the air, grabbing the hilt in reverse before handing it to her. She grasped the sword solidly, before pointing it at him. The tip of the sword pressed into Fushimi’s neck, the prick so very close to where she could press and push, and then kill.

Instead, Seri lowered the sword to push aside his left jacket and shirt, letting loose a button as she glanced at the area near his collarbone.

“It’s as I thought,” Seri mused out loud, as Fushimi averted his eyes, long eyelashes casting shadows on his skin, “you destroyed his mark.”

Fushimi stayed silent, looking at her calculatingly. It was a silent type of ‘get on with it’ that left her mildly offended.

“Kneel.” She commanded, and he complied, one knee on the ground and one foot planted firmly as his left arm crossed his chest. She lifted the sword to his right shoulder.

“Do you, Saruhiko Fushimi, swear to serve Munakata Reisi loyally and dutifully?”

“I do.” He said, sounding slightly reluctant. Seri wanted to deny that she gained some sort of grim satisfaction with seeing him bound to Scepter 4.

“Will you serve me as well?”

There was a brief pause. “I will.” He said finally, words slow and drawn out, as if it were painful to extract every word. Seri moved the sword from his left shoulder to the top of his tilted head.

“Do you serve us in mind, body, and soul?”

 Fushimi looked up slowly at her, mouth almost in a carved frown. Seri laughed.

“I didn’t think so,” She said, turning around and sheathing the weapon, careful not to irritate its magical power. “Come with me, Fushimi.” The name came easily to her lips now, the acrid taste gone.

She didn’t look behind her as she navigated through the halls. Saruhiko’s presence was felt clearly behind her as he trailed inaudibly along, probably slouching while averting his gaze in boredom, features that Seri had become familiar with after long terms of observance.

Finally she saw the familiar office, as she knocked on the door, waiting for a moment before she heard the ‘Come in’.

“Captain,” Seri began immediately, grabbing Fushimi’s arm as he walked into the door, and pulled him next to her. His face was one of brief surprise, before settling into twitchy amusement. Munakata’s face was unreadable, as if he was not sure whether his Lieutenant was there to complain, or even worse, demote the other man.

“I would like to nominate and place Fushimi Saruhiko as the third-in-command of Scepter 4. He has proven himself loyal and skilled, and a worthy member of this organization.”

Munakata’s face promptly dissolved into a pleasantly pleased expression.

“I’m glad you approve.”

Fushimi shifted on his feet, for once attentive and not spacing out on the window.

“Fushimi-kun, the sword.” Munakata said, arm outstretched. Fushimi wordlessly handed it to him, their fingers brushing for a moment far too long than normal. Surprisingly, Seri was neither angry nor bitter, her feelings having disappeared along with her inexperience in dealing with Fushimi.

He certainly wasn’t her type. Munakata, his calm, stable power, and manly stature were highly attractive and respected by her, unlike Fushimi, who was young, so very young, and his personality certainly wasn’t the most vibrant, what with his constant apathy.

Saruhiko, however, had his charms. His adept genius, effectiveness, lean figure and long eyelashes…

And Seri, for one, could learn to adapt. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know what I was thinking-- Mikoto as the good "light" side, and Munakata as another lord. I just adapted aspects of the actual anime into a Harry Potter universe so it would make sense, and told the story of Fushimi's defection. And his general badassery.


End file.
